Page 6 of Condemned Soul

“Ya change ya mind?” I look at him hopefully. The last thing I wanna do is lose my best friend, but Utah needs someone strong to guide them and I appreciate his reasons for needing to be there, now more than ever.

“No, but I do wanna make sure everythin’ is dealt with here before I leave.”

“The club’s never been stronger,” I point out, lighting myself a cigarette and trying not to sound smug. Now we’ve got our hands on that resort, we have a lot to offer. Things here are really lookin’ up.

“I meant with the Bastards.” He leans forward and helps himself to a smoke from my packet.

“You don’t need to worry about the Bastards, they ain’t got shit on us. They’re just a bunch of bike enthusiasts lookin’ to shift some shit and make some dime.”

“Ain’t that how we started out?” My best friend makes a valid point, bringing me back to reality like he always does. It makes me chuckle.

“I’m gonna miss ya,” I admit, then get completely distracted when I notice one of the club whores pushing Hayley’s stroller through the barroom door.

“Whoa, what ya doin’ with her?” I ask Frankie, who I’d barely trust to take care of my dick, never mind my baby.

“Oh, I’m just watchin’ her,” she tells me with a proud look on her face as she continues to push her toward the bar.

“And where the fuck’s her momma?” I get up and stand in her way.

“Oh, Mary-Ann’s mom had to work today and she had a rough night last night. She’s sleeping it off.” Frankie smiles like it’s no big deal and when I look at Brian, he shares the same concerned look as me.

“Lacey, take over from Frankie, get Hayley in your car, and take her back to my cabin at the new compound. Stay with her until I get there.”

“But Mary-Ann chose me to watc?—”

“You don’t take orders from Mary-Ann!” I remind Frankie, storming outta the club and getting on my bike. I ride to the bungalow on the other side of town that I’m paying a fortune to lease to keep Mary-Ann pacified and when I see a truck that I don’t recognize on the drive, it makes the heat in my blood burn through my skin. I crash through the door and find Mary-Ann all strung out on the couch with a needle hanging out her arm. I rush toward her, lifting her head from where it’s slumped onto her chest

“Mary-Ann.” I tap her cheek and get a weak groan in response, then when I look over my shoulder and see the 6ft, scrawny prick that comes out the bathroom with a towel around his waist, I let her head flop back down and stand back on my feet.

“You got a death wish?” I ask him.

“Jimmer, she… She told me you were outta town.” The asshole looks like he’s gonna crap himself as the words stutter from his mouth.

“I was on a run, I got back early. Now, since you know my name and my business, I think it’s only fair that you tell me yours.”

He shakes his head and starts backing away from me like a fuckin’ pussy.

“I didn’t mean any harm. I was just lookin’ for a good time.”

“A good time.” I nod my head as I slowly make up the space between us.

“Please don’t hurt me,” he squeaks like a little mouse when his back hits the wall.

“Hurt ya?” Somehow, despite all my rage, I manage to snort a laugh at him. “I’m gonna do a lot more than fuckin’ hurt ya.”

The guy shakes his head as the sweat starts to drip from his pores.

“But first you're gonna tell me where you got that shit from.” I know for a fact that no one smart deals in Manitou Springs. Just getting hold of weed around here is like obtaining rocking horse shit, so where the fuck this guy’s got heroin from is a mystery that I want solved.

“I’m sorry… I can’t tell you that.” I hear the fear in his voice and it only confirms that he will be telling me.

“I’m sorry. Did I make that sound like a fuckin’ option?” I grip my fingers around his throat and squeeze, causing him to choke. It’s a distraction from the blade that I pull from my belt and stab into his side, at least until he feels it pierce through his flesh. The asshole’s cries of agony fill my ears as his blood starts to trickle around my hand and I slowly twist the handle.

“Now, if I pull this knife outta ya, you’ll bleed to death. If I keep it in, there’s a slight chance you could live,” I explain. “Tell me where you got the shit,” I ask him one more time.

“Baaaa… Bastards!” he yells through his pain and I nod my head because, suddenly, I’m not surprised. Turns out Brian was right. Again.

“Please don’t let me die,” he begs, his eyes bulging with fear and desperation as he looks down at the knife sticking outta his side.

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